


short of glory

by renecdote



Series: hc_bingo 2019 [7]
Category: Batman - All Media Types
Genre: Brotherly Bonding, Gen, Guilt, Hurt/Comfort, Shared Trauma, it's just talking and feelings idk
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-11-30
Updated: 2019-11-30
Packaged: 2021-02-18 11:49:37
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 853
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21610432
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/renecdote/pseuds/renecdote
Summary: “I’ve done things,” Jason says fiercely. Things.Damian seems entirely unconcerned by the horrible nature of the ’things’ Jason has done. “Tt. We’ve all done things, Todd.”
Series: hc_bingo 2019 [7]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1498529
Comments: 16
Kudos: 216





	short of glory

**Author's Note:**

> Written for a prompt (Jason + absolution) on tumblr. Also fills the 'atonement' square on my hurt/comfort bingo card.

The thing is… The thing is. Jason has done some terrible shit. He /knows/ he’s done some terrible shit. A lot of the time, he can pretend that doesn’t bother him. (He’s especially good at that pretending when he’s arguing with Bruce.) 

The times he can’t pretend, or doesn’t want to pretend, are unpredictable. There’s no particular time of year, no key event, no combination of words or sights or smells that punch through his walls and stir up the rotting mess of memories inside. Sometimes it’s blood on the sidewalk, sometimes it’s a kid in a homemade cape, sometimes it’s Alfred’s name on an incoming call. Sometimes he has no idea what the hell it is, just that one moment he’s fine and the next he’s sitting on his second favourite gargoyle having an existential crisis.

That’s where Robin finds him. The kid swings past, then pauses on the next roof, looking up for a long moment. He lifts his hand to his comm, paces for a bit, crosses his arms and glares out at the night. That goes on for a few entertaining minutes, then he throws up his hands and a few seconds later he’s scrambling up to Jason’s perch.

“Todd,” Damian greets, getting comfortable on the ledge that Jason’s gargoyle hangs off.

“Gremlin,” Jason returns. 

He’s not really sure how they get from simple greetings to Jason spilling his heart out to his kid brother, but it might have something to do with Damian’s unique ability to irritate answers out of people. Possibly a bit of Jason’s tendency to monologue when emotional as well.

Damian listens and nods and makes a few barbed comments. Then, when Jason stops to take a breath, he declares, “You’re being dramatic.”

“I’ve done things,” Jason says fiercely. _Things._

Damian seems entirely unconcerned by the horrible nature of the ’things’ Jason has done. “Tt. We’ve all done things, Todd.”

If it were anyone else, those words would probably come out soothing or placating, swaddled in guilt and self-recrimation. But with Damian there’s just an undercurrent of _you’re not special for being a murderous asshole_. It makes Jason snort. 

“Anyone ever tell you you’re way too adjusted to violence for a twelve year old?” he asks.

“Richard,” Damian replies promptly. “All the time.”

He says it like it’s an affront, but Jason can see the edges of a smile lurking on his face. Visual evidence of the fuzzy feeling he still gets when he remembers that people care about him. The kid got a lot from Bruce, but not his poker face. 

“I tried to kill you once,” Jason says. He’s not sure why he says it. Maybe he feels like Damian is being too calm about this murderous asshole thing. Maybe it’s that self-recrimination coming through. Maybe he’s just curious about how the kid is going to react.

Damian shrugs. He kicks his legs against the roof—just once, before he remembers to keep up the ‘I’m not a child’ act. “I tried to kill you back,” he points out.

Jason pushes his shoulder. “I hope you feel bad about that,” he says, only half joking.

“I do,” Damian says. He looks at Jason straight-on then, face serious. Same gene pool or not, it’s uncanny how much that expression looks like Bruce.

Jason clears his throat. “I guess one of us completing the redemption arc isn’t bad odds.”

The forced lightness falls flat. Damian keeps looking at him. Scrutinising him, really, with brows scrunched beneath the mask. Jason idly wonders whether Damian finds the mask as uncomfortable as he used to. Probably not, it’s been updated a few times since Jason wore it. More high-tech, better fit. New and improved.

“I still have nightmares about it,” Damian says haltingly. “Dreams about all the things I’ve done, where I wake up and for a moment it feels like I’m still that person, that I still do those things.” He looks down, gloved fingers picking at a thread on his knee. “Richard says it’s a sign of guilt, but I’m not sure I believe him.”

Jason doesn’t know what to say to that. He has dreams like that too—only he wakes up and he really is that person still, he really does do those things. Whatever they mean, it sure as hell isn’t guilt.

“Guilt is overrated,” he says. It’s a bald-faced lie and Damian knows it.

“It has its uses,” the kid says. He grins the mischievous grin of devious children everywhere. “Sometimes when Father feels guilty he buys me ice cream.”

Jason laughs. It feels easier that it would have earlier tonight. “That a hint?” he asks.

“Maybe.”

Jason stands up, feeling the cloak of pretending fit neatly across his shoulders once again. “Come on then,” he says. “I know a place nearby that’s open late.”

He’s still done terrible things and doing one nice thing isn’t going to fix that. It might not even help, but maybe it’s worth a shot. And if not, that’s fine. At least he’ll have ice cream to numb some of the memories for a little while.

**Author's Note:**

> Tumblr is [here](https://renecdote.tumblr.com/)


End file.
